


We Walked Around In Your City Lights

by KilltheDJ



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: (...fanart for this one would be hella cool just sayin'...), Blanket Permission, Crow is. v important., Kobra is mentioned but hahaha we dont talk about that, M/M, Unicorn Onesie, its so close to being original, snuggles, the only reason we call this fanfiction is because stef and dante ARE party and ghoul but AUS, you'll see who Raven is...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilltheDJ/pseuds/KilltheDJ
Summary: When Dante heard music blasting from the elementary school playground at one in the morning, he thought it best to investigate who had a decent taste in music.He did not expect to become attached to the guy having a breakdown in a unicorn onesie. And he really did not expect to suggest that guy live with him two days later.Then again, maybe he should've expected it, because the key to his heart was somewhere between watching Sixteen Candles and badly singing along to Relient K in his living room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valllllll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valllllll/gifts).

> Mad credit to Alex for helping out with all the plotting and stuff! And of course a big thanks to Mars for betareading (andlettingmereadyourWIP)
> 
> Dante - Ghoul  
Stef - Poison  
Kobra - Marco  
Jet - Gabriel  
Sandman - Dylan

Living across from an elementary school had its perks, Stef supposed.

The school still had a swingset, one that the district hadn’t gotten around to removing and, seeing the rest of the school, they never were going to. The swingset was like a safe haven for him. He felt as though could touch the stars if he swung high enough...a childish belief, but one he held dearly.

Was that why he was sitting on the swings at one at night, rain sprinkling down into the foggy haze blanketed over the half-dirt school field? Was that why he had eyeliner tear tracks outlined on his face and a speaker blasting The Pretty Reckless on the swing next to him? 

Most spectacularly - or most pathetically, he thought with a snort -, he wasn’t even in proper sulking attire. He was in his old unicorn onesie, the hood having fallen off ages ago. And here he was, in a damn unicorn onesie listening to girl rock in a child’s playground crying about his problems.

Super impressive, right? It was a wonder he was considered the ‘cool one’ in school. Then again, high school juniors had a skewed sense of...well, everything. Whatever, it didn’t really matter right now; Stef sniffled, wiping his nose, then began the rest of seeing how high he could swing before he swung so much that he got nauseous. 

He should just go home. Go home, toss and turn some more, wait for his alarm to go off and somehow, miraculously, fall asleep. Yeah, sounded like a typical night.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, Stef thought. He was seventeen. He should be in the middle of his stupid teenage romance movie. He should be...sneaking out to hang out with someone, to graffiti the old abandoned church, to go get crappy fast food and share secret smiles the next day.

Yeah, Stef knew that it never happened like in the movies, but he was a hopeless romantic and his lack of anything involving romance in his life was the least difficult thing to think about, really. 

He laughed to himself, at himself. The nausea was starting to set in, his stomach sending a queasy feeling to his head that made him feel like he was overheating whenever he went too high, but he didn’t care. Let it set in. It only got really bad if he stopped, and he had no intention of stopping. 

It didn’t help that - Oh! Stef liked this song; he thought he was just listening to the Going To Hell album, and it’d been shuffled around so Heaven Knows had just come on. Look, he really liked The Pretty Reckless, okay? 

Besides, their singer was pretty.

Content in ignoring the world and jamming out to a good song, Stef closed his eyes, letting the small droplets of rain hit his face as he felt the rush of the wind against his body. He could touch the stars, one day. 

Then the music cut out, and Stef - justifiably - snapped his eyes open to see what the problem was, because the song clearly wasn’t over and he knew his iPod had a full battery when he left (yeah, he still had an iPod. It had a lot of songs on it, okay?)

The fog made it difficult to make anything out, but somehow the combination of light rain, fog, and swinging back-and-forth didn’t obscure his vision completely and he could see someone standing by the other swing, by Party’s speaker and iPod.

His first thought was - why is anyone out in this weather shirtless, with sweatpants on?

His second thought was voiced; “Hey! Why’d you turn that off?”

The person’s eyes snapped toward his, curiously. They were holding a knife in one hand, the other hovering above Stef’s speaker. “Was wonderin’ who was playing The Pretty Reckless in the middle of the night.”

“You got a problem with it?” Stef snarked, but he didn’t bother trying to slow his swinging. He wasn’t going to get off just because some confused guy in sweatpants turned off his speaker. Well. Maybe if he stole it, but nothing was stolen so far so Stef wasn’t going anywhere.

The person shook their head; raven black hair. Shoulder-length. It was probably about as greasy as Stef’s own, but the dim lighting was helping no one, was it? Stupid fog. “Like them. Don’t you...live down the street, right? Why are you out here?”

“Can’t a guy just peacefully have a mental breakdown?” asked Stef sarcastically. In fact, he wasn’t having a breakdown, certainly not. It was entirely normal to violently swing on a child’s playground in a unicorn onesie at night. It was fine. He was fine. “And maybe I do. Who are you?”

“I live on the other street, one with’tha garage door open?” the person lazily pointed; Stef’s eyes didn’t bother flickering over. He was swinging and moping. Talking to weird guys in sweatpants wasn’t on that agenda. 

Silence befell the pair of them for a while. Stef was okay with it, content to swing but missing his music. As for his interrupter, he didn’t know, but the combination of drizzling rain and November temperatures were surely making inside and blankets and shirts much more tempting.

Still, the boy didn’t leave and Stef wasn’t going to point it out. He didn’t know what reason he had to stay, but hey, he himself wasn’t in any position to judge.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he watched the boy gently place the speaker on the ground, and sit on the other swing. Probably not a good idea, Stef thought, considering that was wet and this guy was so getting hypothermia in just sweatpants like he was.

He was pretty, but, still. Hypothermia was more pressing than conventional attractiveness. “What are you doing?”

“Swinging with you,” the boy said casually, starting to push himself forward. “You look like you need some company. And you’re gonna get mugged.”

“For the record, I am not going to get mugged!” Stef laughed, an actual laugh. Would’ve been much more enjoyable should his stomach have been in the proper position to let him laugh without bringing back a wave of nausea with him. “And - how would you stop me from getting mugged? You’re the size of a fridge magnet!”

The boy almost looked offended. Almost. Stef sort-of found himself wanting to see him better, but refusing to stop swinging, of course. He would just have to deal with it. “I have the knife and you’ve got...a unicorn onesie and fucked-up eyeliner. Take a wild guess who’s gonna get mugged here.”

“Certainly you,” Stef scoffed, a big smile on his face. “Who are you, anyways?”

“We’ve met in passing. I’m Dante, Dante Uragano.”

Dante. Stef’s mind instantly went to Dante’s Inferno, but Ninth Circle of Hell or no, it was a pretty name fitting for a pretty boy. 

Did he just think that? What was he doing?

Stef took a minute to realize - oh, oh he was spacing out. He needed to come back to the reality that was the children’s swings and fog and a pretty boy. “Er - I’m Stef. I think you already know that. Uh - sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“It’s the middle of the night and I’m in sweatpants, I’m not grading you on how good you are at introducing yourself to your potential mugger in the park,” Dante snickered. He was picking up momentum, and when it silence wasn’t filled with talking it was filled with the creaking of the metal swing chains cursing their weight and the rain hitting the metal. 

Stef didn’t think that he would be having a conversation in the middle of the night on the swings, neither of them dressed for the occasion, barely knowing each other’s names. That was fine, though, he supposed.

He liked talking to Dante. Dante didn’t sugarcoat things and he had a tendency to blurt out what he was thinking - likely accidentally - and he said some odd things sometimes, like the five minutes he went on a rant about how the Star Wars Extended Universe deserved better and also did you know the Central Railroad of New Jersey filed for bankruptcy times?

No, Stef didn’t, but he didn’t mind learning. Dante’s voice took the place of his music, and Dante didn’t demand his attention when he talked. He let Stef stare up at the clouds and pray for more rain, or off into the treetops and he liked that. 

Stef had previously been telling the time by when his songs switched, so he had no idea what time it was, but he had an idea - the rain had all but stopped (good for Dante, who, again, was in sweatpants and also shirtless. Dumb idea in November, if he hadn’t expressed this enough), and his nausea had turned into a game of how long he could swing for.

He didn’t want to go home. And he didn’t want the night to end or the sun to come up because he didn’t want to drag himself through another day of school - he liked school, he did, it was a safe haven, but it wasn’t the same as...this, he guessed.

Of all things, Stef didn’t want to go home. He didn’t know Dante very well, but...there was something safe about Dante, too, though that might’ve been because the blanket of night and all its inhabitants felt safe to him.

But, of course, all good things had to come to an end. And it came to an end with Dante, laughing, face red from the wind hitting it as he swung, skin beginning to turn a biting purple from cold. “Shouldn’t you be getting home? It’s pretty late out, you’re gonna need some sleep.”

The mood died instantly for Stef. He frowned, instantly sobering. He didn’t want to go home. But what was he going to tell Dante? “Er - uh. I don’t wanna get some sleep, it’s fine.”

Dante returned the frown. “It’s freezing out and you’ve yawned eight times in the last two hours. Are you sure?”

“Ye - yeah, I’ll just - I’ll just drink an energy drink, it’s fine,” Stef cracked a weak grin, lying through his teeth. He hadn’t tasted caffeine in, like, years. He operated on sheer willpower and spite. 

“I mean...I mean,” Dante started - Stef could hear the hesitation come through in his tone. It put him on edge - what was bad enough to make Dante hesitant? “Or do you just not want to go home?”

“I - “

“It’s - it’s totally fine to yell at me!” Dante blurted before Stef could get his panicked two-cents in. “I just...uh, we live a few houses away from each other an’ we both have school in the morning an’ my parents don’t wake up ‘till I leave for school. So if you, uh, if you want, you could stay with me so you don’t have to go home?”

Dante seemed to realize he was rambling and quickly shut his mouth; Stef liked the way his voice sounded. It was melodic. Maybe that was the nighttime safety talking, too. 

Stef decidedly did not answer for a few seconds. Weighing the options. He could always just go home, pretend he didn’t hate the smell of alcohol, pretend that he didn’t sleep alone. 

Or he could spend the night with a near-stranger, a few houses down, without any of his clothes to get ready in the morning, potentially making his home situation even worse but better for the night.

His choice was made before he even comprehended he had to make a choice. His face was bright red, but luckily the blush was hidden underneath the red sprinkled across his face and nose from the cold. He was stuttering, too - God, it made everything worse, didn’t it. “I, uh, sure?” 

“Really?” Dante looked surprised - and just as red as Stef, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t the cold. 

Was this his teen romance movie?

“Yeah - I mean, I mean, you offered, right?” Stef smiled, a bit uncomfortable himself as he let momentum start slowing him down. Time to go home...but not to his home. Was his house even his home?

Dante beamed back at him - actually beamed -; Stef felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He wasn’t used to other people smiling at him, because of him. And not that radiantly. “Sweetsauce! You, uh, wanna go back now?”

Stef nodded, as well as he could while he was still technically swinging. When he was close enough to the ground to jump off, he did, waiting for Dante to stop swinging as well so he could grab his speaker, which was underneath Dante’s swing. 

“It’s the one with the garage door open and the light on,” Dante snorted, pointing to the house on the street to the left. True to his word, the garage door was partially open and yellow light was pouring out underneath. Why anyone was chilling in their garage at what was probably three in the morning now, he had no idea, and he quite frankly didn’t want to know. 

“What were you even doing up at one in the morning?” Stef asked against his better judgement. His curiosity was going to kill him one day, but he wasn’t the one who had thought it was a good idea to see who was blasting rock music while wearing sweatpants and only sweatpants, so. Any of his judgement calls were null and void to judgement. 

Dante shrugged, a sigh falling from his mouth as they began to walk toward the house. (Stef’s nausea was making an appearance, he wanted to puke.) “Some art project. Never got it done in class. Also wanted to spray paint shit.”

With a wise nod that Stef found out was not in his best interest, Stef laughed. “Seems valid to me. So, are you gonna, like, smuggle me in?”

“Nah,” Dante shook his head. Stef noted that his skin was indeed turning purple and he wished he had a jacket just to give to Dante. “My parents sleep like the dead. We can just walk in, it’s a straight shot to my room.”

“Sounds more like a war strategy than letting me stay over.”

“Would you prefer the garage floor?”

“Fair point,” Stef sighed dramatically, grinning and shutting his eyes to accentuate it. “So, uh, I can take the floor of your room. Doesn’t really seem fair to take the bed.”

“Absolutely not!” It would’ve been a declaration had Dante not dropped his voice to a whisper, as they were close enough to let the light spill over them as well as the cracked concrete driveway. Slept like the dead, huh? “You’re the guest. I’ve been dying to see if my sleeping bag was any warm, it’s totally good.”

“Anything I should be aware of before I sleep in your bed?” Stef raised a brow - he was joking, of course. Mostly, he thought. 

Dante rolled his eyes, flipping Stef off. “Besides the fact that I have a Star Wars bedspread? No.”

The temptation to ask Dante if he was being completely serious about having a Star Wars bedspread was there, but Stef also recognized that he was in a unicorn onesie and if Dante wasn’t judging and/or making fun of him for it, then vice versa was also applicable.

He was starting to use big words. That’s how his exhaustion truly showed, apparently. 

Instead of asking about the bedspread, Stef tried to think of anything else to say - and failed, because Dante shushed him before he could say anything else. They walked into the garage, taking care to make their steps silent. 

The door into the house creaked loudly as it opened and Stef saw Dante wince ever-so-slightly, but they made it into what he assumed Dante’s bedroom to be without another hitch.

It was clearly a teenage boy’s bedroom. The comic book posters on the walls paired with the band posters and stickers lining everything else, and the fact that there were clothes everywhere gave it away.

Not that Stef minded, of course, because his room was half the same. Half.

He shook off the bitter thought. Dante had a twin bed - so he had made the right decision with one of them sleeping on the bed and one of them sleeping on the floor, okay. And true to Dante’s word, his blankets were plastered with the Death Star and the Star Wars logo, and a few of the tech pieces. Stef had to laugh quietly about it.

“You can talk a little louder now,” Dante told him, voice low but not a whisper. “It’s just, the floorboards creak a lot, y’know? But their room’s across the house.”

“Noted. Avoid the other half of the house. I don’t, uh, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to sleep in my soaked pajamas…” Stef nodded to what Dante said about his parents room, awkwardly trailing off at the end. His onesie was soaked, it was a sad truth. Not the best to wear out in the rain. But what else was he going to wear?

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment or two. Stef felt more awkward as each second passed. This was not a good start to a romance movie, he had to say. 

“I might…” Dante started, humming as though thinking. “I might have some pajama pants that’ll fit you.”

Before Stef could point out that Dante was three sizes smaller than him at least, Dante did it for him. “And they were way too big for me when I bought them a few months ago, so. Might still be a little short on you, though.”

While Dante dug through his dresser drawers (the amount of stickers and paint on that dresser alone was startling and made Stef jealous), Stef hesitantly sat down on the bed, waiting, not doing anything. The fact that the bed was made was an odd difference to the absolute wreck that was everywhere else.

Eh, not like Stef could say much. He kept his own room only half obsessively clean. He would have to see to this wreck if he ever came back. 

Stef spaced out - until Dante moved, snapping his vision back into focus. Dante had emerged triumphantly from the masses of clothes, tossing a pair of hot pink fuzzy pajama pants over to Stef. 

Hot pink really was his color, Stef thought. He looked great in it, and the omen that gave him that idea was that he actually caught the pajamas when he was as uncoordinated as he possibly could be at this point. 

His color took him to the bathroom. Belatedly, he noticed that Dante hadn’t given him a shirt, but that was okay considering Dante clearly had no qualms with either of them being shirtless and also he actually looked physically attractive, if you took away the whole face thing he forced people to stare at.

And it was also three in the morning and he was tired. Why was he even justifying this?

The night continued on as Dante had suggested it would. Stef discovered that, okay, no judgement should ever be passed on that Star Wars blanket because it was the most comfortable and warm thing he had even had the pleasure of falling asleep with, while Dante slept on the floor in the sleeping bag he pulled out of his closet.

Stef’s onesie was apparently going to be in the laundry to get washed in the morning, and Dante had dug out some jeans that were going to be very tight on Stef and some sweater that was a size too big even for Stef, so he had clothes for tomorrow. It was...It was a stress free night. For once.

Still, Stef fell asleep uneasy. There had to be a catch to this, right? What was it? 

_

When Stef woke up, it was to a blaring alarm clock and someone throwing something at his stomach.

The blanket lessened the impact of the blow, but it still made him startle awake - sitting up involuntarily, looking around wildly.

Then his eyes settled on Dante, and he remembered, oh, right. And he found it was an orange being thrown at him.

He frowned, but didn’t get a word out before Dante was interrupting him with a tsk. “It’s almost time to catch the bus. Get dressed. Oh - and there’s a bagel on the counter, if you wanted, but I realized after I made it that we ran out of cream cheese, so unless you like it plain or with butter, that’s that.”

Stef groggily took in the information, a yawn escaping before he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Right. Dressed. School. Bagel? Orange?

Ugh, he hated mornings, he thought, dragging himself off of the bed. As per habit, he tried to run his hand through his hair and found it was so tangled that he couldn’t. Great. That usually meant he needed to shower (which he wasn’t planning to do in Dante’s house nor his own house). 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t a morning person. Once he was awake, he was awake, and there was no changing that. He just hated the actual process of waking up and adjusting to sunlight and getting your blood flowing enough that you didn’t bump into everything. 

Once he was actually dressed - which didn’t take too long, he didn’t know why he complained about it so often and so viciously when he first woke up - and life didn’t seem so bad any more, he took up that offer of bagel and butter.

Dante was nowhere to be found. But with all the random clanging and crashing coming from the garage, that was where he was. 

Stef realized he didn’t have his backpack. Didn’t have any of his notebooks, or his jacket, or any of his clothes, or even his phone. And, honestly, he didn’t care. It was freeing, in a way. No responsibilities kept on his person.

Sure, school was going to be Hell, but at least he had gotten a few quality hours of sleep. Quality! That almost never happened! 

He found himself smiling, despite the time in the morning and despite his little stunt on the playground last night. He’d somehow managed to make a friend and get a decent night of sleep, and spend time actually enjoying himself.

That was rare, the week it was being taken into consideration. Even the loud shouting on the school bus didn’t diminish his mood; he and Dante sat with their respective cliques, didn’t acknowledge what had happened. 

~

Dante wasn’t used to the hurricane that was Stef. 

They didn’t talk at school, and Stef hadn’t been over since that night two nights ago, but they spent another night on the swingset, and with each spilled word Dante became more and more intrigued, pulled into the storm. 

Stef was...Dante couldn’t figure out what his thought process was. One night he’s crying eyeliner on a swingset in a unicorn onesie and the next he’s a loud, eccentric cool kid hanging out with his clique in the lunchroom. 

He was becoming a good friend of Dante’s, though, which made it even stranger. Dante wasn’t used to having friends and he certainly wasn’t used to them being his almost-neighbors and nowhere near his friend group. 

It was a nice change, though. Trying to spot the cherry red hair was fast becoming a habit of his. Even if he wasn’t going to talk to Stef, which was also quickly becoming one of his habits, he liked to see the shock of red against the dull school backdrop. It brought back a rush of any of the emotions he’d felt the night previous.

He didn’t know what any of those emotions were, for sure, but he knew that they were positive and part of him wanted to give Stef a long, hard hug and then a harsh slap to the face. 

The way Stef talked...it was entrancing, the way he could talk about the stars or how bitter he could be about the world that existed in the light of the sun, but at the same time, he talked so lowly of himself, like he wasn’t actually living his life, like he was taking every hit and never fighting back, just continuing on. He talked like he was waiting for the world to cave down on him and when it did, he would stand up from the ruins and pretend it never happened.

Basically, he sounded like he was the worst thing to happen to Dante, because he always did like the tragic type. 

The issue was, he couldn’t dwell on that too much, considering before he even got to his first period, he was minding his own business and listening to Lizzy Hale shout about being a bitch when he looked up only to find himself face-to-face with Stef.

Startling back, Dante yanked out his headphones, cocking his head in confusion. Stef’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair was messed up like he hadn’t brushed it in a while - and maybe most concerning of all was the simple fact that he looked like he was going to start breaking down if Dante so much as said ‘hi’.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Stef asked, rushing his words and slurring them together like he just wanted to get them out into the open and not lose his confidence. Dante could barely understand it, taking a moment just to decipher it.

He didn’t ask why. He was smart enough to realize that asking wasn’t the best idea. “Uh...I mean, uh, I think so. Sure, yeah, I think.”

Stef gave a laugh, not one that he meant of course, but one for show. Yeah, like he could totally play off that he was so obviously about to or in the middle of a breakdown. “Er - uh - thanks. Just...thanks.”

The relief on his face was obvious, but Dante didn’t want to make the situation awkward by pointing it out. “It’s good, it’s good. Just not used to having an impromptu sleepover, y’know? Last time I had one of those was when I was fourteen.”

“Same Star Wars blanket?”

“Same Star Wars blanket,” Dante echoed his confirmation, nodding. Whatever Stef needed, right? 

Stef’s small smile of gratitude was enough to make Dante’s day.

Sure, they wouldn’t sit together on the bus when they were going home and they wouldn’t talk as they walked, but, hey, Dante wasn’t going to be the one to deny Stef the right of not going home when he so clearly didn’t want to be there. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. Stef was fine. Right?

_

Stef was not fine. 

Dante wasn’t blind, he could see it from the moment they walked in the door. His parental unit was at work, of course; but they would be home sooner rather than later, it was a Thursday after all. 

Stef hadn’t made eye contact with him throughout the entire walk home. He kept his eyes downcast and his hair covering his face.

It was a bit difficult to notice he was crying but, again, Dante wasn’t blind. Stef was crying, silently, but he was still crying.

And there wasn’t much Dante could do about it, logically, and Stef clearly didn’t want him to know - so he chose the most logical route he could. Pretending not to notice as he walked in the door, he immediately went to his room, not a word spoken between them, and got the little speaker he’d gotten his last birthday.

He had the perfect song to play - a grin spread over his face. Nothing ever felt better than listening to a love song when you were oh-so-clearly in the middle of a breakdown, right? Or was Dante just a hopeless romantic with really bad coping mechanisms?

Eh, nevermind that, he thought, and scrolled through the playlists on his phone until he found the specific song he was looking for. 

The familiar guitar riff burst out throughout the living room, startling Stef into looking up (and then immediately looking back down so he could wipe his tears away).

_ I've given up on giving up slowly ___

Dante beamed at Stef. His mom loved this album, if he was being honest, so Relient K was always going to hold a special place in Dante’s heart - and this song seemed perfect for the occasion, didn’t it? Be My Escape? 

_ I'm blending in so you won't even know me ___

They weren’t that good of friends, or very important to each other, but the song was about escaping, wasn’t it? And that was what Stef was trying to do, right? Why was he all of a sudden second-guessing his choice? Was it because Stef wasn’t reacting?

_ Apart from this whole world that shares my fate ___

Yeah, it was because Stef wasn’t reacting. Until he did. 

Stef looked up, giving Dante a watery smile, his eyes still red-rimmed and bloodshot.

_ _ _ _ _ _Then Dante noticed he was mouthing along, laughing at himself. But still singing._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _In what Dante was hoping he wouldn’t regret, he decided that all the awkwardness that was sitting in his living room was simply not allowed, turned up the volume, and then crappily started belting out the lyrics, dancing._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dancing was not his thing. Stef was laughing at him before he even finished one line - But Dante couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed because right after laughing, Stef joined in! Dante must’ve been doing something right, then, right?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef could sing just about as well as Dante, and that was not at all - but singing wasn’t the point! The point was having fun, the exaggerated dancing, the shouted lyrics. The laughter, instead of crying. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _By the time the song ended, Dante was out of breath and Stef was draped across the couch like he owned the place, trying to catch his own breath. It wasn’t working out very well for either of them._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“We should do that again, sometime,” said Stef, panting, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes would stay bloodshot for a while, but he wasn’t crying anymore and the only reason his face was rosy was because he was overheating, so Dante called it a win. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“We should,” Dante agreed. Stef was really pretty when he let loose like that, just...let himself be in the moment. Didn’t worry about what was on his mind and didn’t worry about the past nor the future, just focused on the present. “Uh, I can get us some snacks, you wanna, like, watch a movie in my room or something?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Unless it is a cheesy romcom, I’m gonna have to pass you up.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante smiled smugly, already walking away to the pantry in the kitchen, Stef out of view so he was shouting over his shoulder. “Bold of you to assume I own anything except romcoms, isn’t it?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You seem more like…” Stef trailed off, weighing his options as Dante scrambled through the pantry to find anything suitable for a movie. “A horror person, y’know? Like, gore and stuff like that?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante shook his head. “So not my thing. I don’t really like watching on-screen bloodbaths. In real life I’m fine with blood, just. It’s weird on a screen, you get me?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, seems logical to me,” Stef shrugged. Dante could tell he wasn’t really interested in it anymore, so he elected to not respond, emerging victoriously with two bags of Chex Mix and a singular bag of popcorn. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He walked back over to where Stef could see him to gesture him that they were moving into Dante’s room - he of course didn’t have a TV but he had a really old laptop that still had a DVD player (lucky for him, he actually updated the programs so it wasn’t as crappy as you would suspect) and a lot of movies he was never going to admit to having._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _After some bickering, Stef was volunteered to go make the popcorn while Dante figured out what movie they would be watching - eventually landing on Sixteen Candles. The only odd thing about it was that the DVD itself was sitting next to Fight Club (but he didn’t talk about that)._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ ___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _If anyone were to walk up to Dante right now and tell him that Stef was not a cuddler, he would choke on his own laughter._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Maybe a third of the way through the movie, Stef had gone from sitting next to Dante to laying in his lap to sitting next to him but curled but in his side, and now he was draped across Dante’s lap and mumbling along with the dialogue as it was spoken. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante never actually paid attention to this movie when it was on, it was one of those...he just had it because why not? Good background movie. So while Stef was clearly not going to be paying attention to anything else, Dante was, yes, going to individually lick all the flavoring off every single piece of Chex Mix he had before eating it while contemplating how he ended up in this situation in the first place. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _So, he was in his room with a really cute boy who was having a breakdown an hour ago because he stupidly decided that seeing who in his neighbor had good taste in music was a good idea at one in the morning two nights ago? _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _It seemed about right. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _His real issue was somewhere along the lines of ‘cute boy’ and ‘breakdown’. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _See, Dante had never been good at comfort, and he hadn’t ever been any good at figuring out why someone was upset without prying, and he hated prying, but to him it appeared that Stef was not having a good week. Sure, he could deal with a few impromptu sleepovers but that would never make the problem go away, would it? And that’s what he was worried about._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _And, there was also the mild sexuality crisis Dante was having._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He had never put too much effort into figuring out what his orientation was, it was just never important to him, he figured he’d grow up and get a crush on some chick and that would be that and that was not being that. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef was really pretty. Dante had noticed it before, of course, but Stef was also really funny and had a good taste in music and he absolutely had lit up when they were dancing and he had a cute laugh and - _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _And, again, Dante was screwed._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Whatever. He’d enjoy his Chex Mix and movie and ignore it all. It was fine. Stef was a friend who needed a therapist and also apparently a new home. Dante wished he could fix everything._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He couldn’t, he didn’t even know what he wanted to fix, but he could make Stef’s life better for a night. Stereotypical teenage sleepover, right?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _When Stef shifted again, this time with his head in Dante’s lap and feet against the wall, Dante blinked - startled, brought back to the movie that was...Oh, over. To the movie that had two minutes left. Yikes. This is why his mama always told him thinking too much was going to get him into trouble. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _His mama would be home soon, right, right. Hopefully she’d have no problem with Stef staying over, considering Dante never had many of his friends over, but the risk was still there and he didn’t feel like getting the disapproving look and the ‘can we talk about this in private?’_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He said as much as to Stef, who wasn’t paying much attention to him, instead watching the credits like a psychopath. Who did that?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _And then Stef gave a non-committal wave of his hand, shifting once again so one of his legs was falling off the bed and his entire body was twisted solely so he could lay on the pillows. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine. Wait - are we on the side of pro-parental unit here, or…?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante nodded, shutting his laptop and setting it on his jacket, which was on the floor. “Yeah, my parents are pretty cool. They’ll like you, I can tell.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Oh really?” Stef raised a brow. “Most parents aren’t quite a fan of me. I’ve had one of my friend’s parents ban ‘im from seein’ me because of the ‘sinful homosexuality’ I have.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You’re gay?” Dante blurted, a bit shocked, but playing it shocked._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef just gave a shrug. “Hell if I know. I think I’m a bit into everyone. But, no, yeah, super religious family and all that, they thought my red hair an’ lackluster physical adept-ness made me gay.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante had to stifle a laugh. Not stifle a laugh, he was absolutely wheezing, holding his ribs, choking on his own laughter. Oh, oh God, was Stef really asking him if his parents were okay with gays? Dante had some news to share with him…_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Or, Dante realized as he began to regulate his breathing again, his grin starting to hurt his face, Stef could figure it out all on his own… “It’s - uh - you’ll see. You’ll see it immediately.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef kept his brow raised, but didn’t ask Dante for an elaboration and began to pick at his nails. He was antsy today, wasn’t he?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Hey Stef?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What’s going on today? You approach me out of the blue, you ask to stay at my house of all things, you’re crying on our way home and you haven’t stopped fidgeting since we got here...”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante didn’t mean to blurt, he didn’t, but right now it seems like no matter what he thought about it circled back to Stef and whatever the hell was going on at home. He and Dante hadn’t known each other for too long, so he really didn’t have a right, but they were starting to be decent friends, right?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef went motionless. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. The silence stretched on, Dante waiting for an answer and not changing the topic._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _It took a full five minutes before Stef opened his eyes, making eye contact with Dante for only a split second before averting them and staring at the band stickers on the dresser. “It’s, uh...today’s not a very good day, I guess. It’s an anniversary. Staying at home just makes it hurts worse, y’know?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Can I ask what it’s an anniversary of?” Dante asked hesitantly, curiously, keeping his voice light intentionally and keeping the frown off his face. He tapped his finger on his leg (he should change into pajamas, he thought offhandedly). _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef sighed, but answered nonetheless, rubbing his eyes. Keeping his voice just as light as Dante’s, like it wasn’t clearly taking such a toll on him, he said, “I have a brother, y’know. Two years younger than me, genius, that kid. He, uh, he ran away three years ago. We used to share a room. All his stuff is still there.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Why’d he run away?” It felt like prying, it was prying, Dante winced to himself. He didn’t mean to pry, but at the same time, he could already see the relief in Stef’s shoulders from just saying it out loud. And he was curious. Stef used to have a brother?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Then Stef laughed, one of those self-deprecating laughs that made you keep a closer eye on your friend when you heard, putting Dante on red alert. “Dad used to beat the shit outta him when he got bad marks an’ talked back about it. He was two grades ahead, he was strugglin’. Momma kicked Dad out in a rage a month later, but the damage had been done, Marco hasn’t come home.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Had Dante already mentioned he wasn’t very good at comfort? He hoped so, because he couldn’t find anything better to say than an uncomfortable shrug and “...That sucks, dude.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef nodded in agreement. “Yeah. So, uh, that’s why I’m sorta… Not good this week. Don’t wanna go home and remember.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Shouldn’t you comfort your mom, at least? I mean, it’s not like that’s your job or anything, but, like - “_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“No, no, it’s fine. I probably should. Lord only knows she’s passed out drunk. She never really got over him running away. He was always her star kid, her baby. Takes a toll when the one thing you love most in the world runs away from you,” Stef sighed, rolling over so he could lay face down on the pillows and muffle his voice._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante kept his silence for a minute. The gears in his brain were turning, turning - there were a few time stamps here that were lining up a bit too cozily too be coincidental to him. Nevertheless, he didn’t voice any of that. “She loves you. It’s gotta be difficult to lose a kid, though. Or maybe she is just a shitty parent with a drinking problem. I don’t know. But - hey. Actually. I have an idea.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Pray tell?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You never actually, uh, you never went home before you came over. Does your mom care where you go?” Dante asked. “Does she even care if you come home?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _That would’ve sound offensive had he not been genuinely curious and also not vicious at all, he had an idea, holy shit, he had an idea! Stef didn’t look like he was offended, and answered, albeit hesitantly. “She doesn’t. Once I disappeared for two weeks and she never fuckin’ cared. Why?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Can’t you just, like, live here with me?” It was a bold question. They had been friends for two days now. It was a reasonable reaction to say Dante may well be losing his mind and also was learning he made rash decisions on the fly and was not regretting offering this one. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef snorted with laughter, even with it being muffled by the pillows. “Funny joke. Sounds like the cherry on top of my day, thanks.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I’m serious,” Dante frowned. “You could. I mean, I’d have to work my parents up to it but you can just stay in my room until then. Less your cherry and more your cherry bomb of the day.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Then are you my detonator, huh?” asked Stef, sitting up and leaning his head against the wall, giving Dante a tired smile. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante returned his smile, beaming. He was serious, sure, he’d have to somehow hide an entire person, but only for a little while until he talked to his parents and then everything would be golden and Stef wouldn’t have to live with an alcoholic mother when he was so obviously not over his brother either! Win! “I can be, if you let me. Please, stay here?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I’d have to get my stuff. Where would you put it all? And how the Hell are you going to explain that to your parents if you’re trying to keep me here and not bring it up to them at first?” said Stef, doubt as obvious in his voice as exhaustion was in his eyes. He had pretty hazel eyes, Dante noted._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You can just keep your stuff in my room. It’s not like, the furniture or anything, so. And you can just, like, I dunno. They get home late most of the time and wake up late, too, so getting ready for school and coming home shouldn’t be an issue. And they have the weekends off - it wouldn’t be unusual for you to be at my house on a weekend, now would it?” Dante was more planning out loud than answering Stef’s question. Yeah, sure, there were a few holes in his plan, but it was still a plan and it seemed better than the alternative of letting life continue on as it was!_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef shrugged. “We’ll see, I guess.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You don’t believe me,” Dante frowned. He knew Stef wouldn’t believe him. “Seriously - please? You seem miserable at home. And this month probably isn’t getting any better, is it?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _A quick shake of the head confirmed that Dante was right. “Well - yeah. I guess. Fine. Yeah, we’ll see how long this lasts. When should I get my clothes ‘n stuff, then?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“My mama’ll be home soon, so there’s a limited opportunity around now. You don’t have too much stuff, do you?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ ___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef did not, in fact, have much of...anything. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _He owned around seven crumpled t-shirts, four pairs of the same black jeans, two pairs of sweatpants, boxers, socks, and two pairs of shorts. Dante knew because he was counting after having gotten over the shock of how half of the basement - which was Stef’s room, apparently - was completely untouched and covered in dust, trinkets and clothes and comics books._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _The only things Stef seemed to genuinely care about bringing weren’t his clothes; it was this ratty gray blanket Stef carefully took from the untouched half of the room, dust coming off it and making them both cough, and this blue leather jacket from the closet._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“It was from my Grandpa,” Stef had said, smiling not at Dante but at the jacket. Dante let Stef tell him about how his Grandpa got it specially tailored back when he was young, got the vibrant colors because the town he had lived in at that time had a horrible drug problem._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _But when the law tried to fix it, it just choked down on normal citizens. Hence the pill and the X on the back, and the blue was the best way to get the red logo to pop. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante listened, adding in his comments here and there as they gathered his things and walked back to his own house. They even raced a block, for some reason that alluded Dante the moment he tried to figure out why he lit his lungs on fire like that, he was not a runner. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _It turned out that block of running may have saved him a spectacularly awkward conversation considering Dante caught the sleek black paint of his mama’s car moments after they put the duffel bag of Stef’s clothes in his and Dante’s room._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _They shared a room now. What an odd thought, but to Dante it didn’t sound wrong. It had a nice ring to it. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante suggested Stef go and actually put his clothes away while Dante greeted his mama. Stef disappeared, and Dante acted like he totally wasn’t making rash decisions and was in fact the most nonchalant a teenager could be in the kitchen sitting on the piece of counter sitting in front of the sink. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _His mama raised a brow at him the moment she came in the door, seeing him sitting on her sink swinging his legs. “What do you think you’re doing, kiddo?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Greeting my wonderful, loving mama as she walks in the door after a hard day of work,” Dante smiled, knowing he was really slapping on the kiss-up. But, hey, it was true, he was just saying it all cheekily._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What do you want?” She asked immediately, setting down her lunchbox on the counter and giving him the ‘I know you better than you know you’ look underneath her sunglasses. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante grinned sheepishly. “So I may have a friend who’s staying the night an’ it was really last minute and I was hoping you’d be okay with it…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You should be asking your mom that, not me,” his Mama said with a snort. “She’s the one who actually cares about that shit.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I know, but still,” Dante groaned. He was hoping he could’ve gotten a yes by his Mama before he brought it up to his Mom, so then she would have to go along._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Alas, he was stuck in the perpetual loop of ‘Go ask your mother!’_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _His Mama snapped her fingers at him to get him to stop spacing off, as he did, however he was not expecting to lean back on accident, lose his balance, and have his spine become well acquainted with the sink faucet. He shot her a look that hopefully said they should never talk about this again. “So, who is he? Do we know him?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“His name is Stef, and, uh, I don’t think you know him. You might’ve seen him before, he has the cherry red hair y’know?” Dante listed off, checking off the two questions he was answered. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Oh - that’s his name? Huh. Unicorn onesie kid has a name, I gotta text your mom!”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante was the one giving his mama the intrigued expression now - “Unicorn Onesie Kid? What?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“We always saw this kid sittin’ out on the swings before we went to bed. We named him Unicorn Onesie Kid, ‘cos he was always in a unicorn onesie. We got worried when we didn’t see him for a while,” his Mama explained, laughing to herself._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante nodded, but he knew she wasn’t paying attention since she’d nabbed her phone from her backpocket and was most likely texting his Mom about the current situation with Stef. Maybe she’d put in a good word for him?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Probably not. She was probably, like, on Facebook or something. More likely Snapchat (which she called ‘the Snappie Chappie’), but a guy could dream, right?_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Either way, he decided then was the best time to wander off, jumping off the counter to go back to his room. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef was, of course, laid across the bed with his cool ass leather jacket laid over him, staring up at the ceiling and humming what Dante was pretty sure was Be My Escape from earlier. Only half of his clothes were put away, which would’ve been impressive had Stef actually had more than, like, three things to put away._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Mama says it’s not up to her whether there’s an okay if you stay or not,” Dante announced, falling onto the bed right next to Stef. They’d already established Stef had no qualms with cuddles and physical contact, so._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef groaned. “Great. Usually it’s the dads that hate me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Another stifled laugh. Dante shook his head ever-so-slightly, turning on his side so he could huddle under the jacket too, seeing as they were both apparently too lazy to crawl under the blanket. “I can’t wait until you just...talk to my mama. Oh, God, she better get that shit recorded.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Why?” Stef asked, curious but not turning his gaze away from the ceiling. “This seems to be the most hilarious thing to you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You’re one dumb motherfucker, that’s why. There have been so many hints within this house and with me in general but you are so fuckin’ oblivious that you haven’t noticed it yet.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I - “ Stef cut himself off, then rolled his eyes and lightly smacked Dante on the head. “Okay, okay, I am dumb, but seriously, what’s so funny?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Strong is the heteronormativity,” Dante said wisely, and he was right, and he was going to start dying of laughter again if this conversation drawled on any longer._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef basically stopped moving. Like his brain was processing - and then he just blinked, looked at Dante, and said, “Oh.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Explain some things?” Dante practically giggled (giggled - he did not giggle!) into Stef’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef nodded slowly - Dante had to spit out a piece of Stef’s hair that somehow got into his mouth when he did -. “It really explains the lesbian flag in your room, I can tell ya that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante gave an ‘mhm’ as agreement, eyeing the flag that was hung in the corner of his room, pinned up by the ceiling next to his All Time Low poster. “Yeah, so you can see why I don’t think my parents - my mama and mom, respectively - would have any issue with you being gay.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“That...opens up a lot of possibilities,” Stef snickered; Dante could hear the mischievousness in it, he was sure there was a mischievous glint to his pretty hazel eyes if he sat up to see Stef’s  
eyes. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What is your dirty mind thinkin’ of, huh?” Dante asked, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look over at Stef, letting the jacket fall off him. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Stef gave him a smug smile. “One day I’ll tell ya, Detonator. Today isn’t that day. But y’know what?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Before Dante could even get out “What?”, Stef had already leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and laid back down._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Dante stared at him for a moment, mouth open in an ‘o’. It took him a moment to process, oh, wait, what? His face was as red as Stef’s hair. “I - I - uh - Oh - Okay, Cherry Bomb.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Now let’s go talk to your Mama, huh? Gotta make a good impression.”_ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Any Title For This Part Would Sound Like A Fall Out Boy Title, But The Title Is My Chemical Romance, So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know, living with Dante had pros and cons. One pro, he gets quality meals - and two cons, no one technically knows he lives there and his relationship with Dante is not as platonic as it should be.

It was honestly a miracle Dante had managed to keep the knowledge of Stef living with them from his moms’ knowledge for, what, a month now?

At least, Dante thought it was. Stef himself just liked to laugh next to him on the bed when he brought it up, because it was as hilarious as it was impressive. C’mon, last time he got shoved in the closet was by his own accord, right?

But that was a lie. No, the last time he’d been shoved in the closet was by Dante, mere seconds before his mom - Raven, or Mrs. Dante’s Mama - opened the door to ask if Dante wanted Chinese food for dinner.

It wasn’t too bad, either! It wasn’t like Stef was cooped up in Dante’s room all the time; he went and hung out and occasionally stayed the night with his friend Gabriel (Gabriel, not to be called Gabe, because that reminded everyone a bit too much of that west coast smoker kid, who only came to cause havoc), and chilled in the living room watching movies when the moms’ worked late.

Basically, he lived his life, just stayed in Dante’s room more than he would have ever thought he would, if only because they weren’t exactly close friends before this.

“My life sucks!” Stef groaned into the pillow he just face-planted into, wanting to massage away the headache already starting to form. 

Gabriel snickered from somewhere next to Stef, probably sitting on his desk like the weird kid he was. “Your life did, like, a 180 in a month. Why does it suck?”

“You already know the answer to that!”

“I do,” Gabriel said gravely. He managed to keep the serious facade for a total of four seconds before he lost it, laughing at himself. “Seriously, dude, you’ve known him for, what, a month? Why am I not surprised you have a crush on him?”

“I don’t have a crush on him though…” Stef was lying to the both of them, because he most definitely did have a crush on Dante and it had just become more and more apparent as the month drawled on. He couldn’t imagine doing this for years. 

Gabriel was silent. Stef gave in.

“So, fine! I do have a crush on him. He’s all... Cute ‘n shit ‘n I like it!” Stef was still whining into Gabriel’s pillow, because this was usually how he spent every Saturday. Complaining to Gabriel before getting his ass kicked at Mario Kart and then maybe getting into a heated debate over the best State Champs song. They were still in the complaining part, and he was okay with that for the time being. “He’s got this really pretty laugh ‘n really pretty lips ‘n -”

“Stop talking before you make me taste my lunch again,” Gabriel laughed. 

Stef rolled over and sat up to stick his tongue out at him, but only succeeded in toppling over into a pile of stuffed animals. “You’re not gonna - agh!”

This was ridiculous! It was so weird to have a crush on the guy he was living with - not only living with but sharing a bed with! It was weird! Why did Stef have to get the most inconvenient crushes?

Gabriel laughed at him again, but it was warranted, Stef would admit that. He was maybe being a little melodramatic. A little. Maybe. “Can’t you just tell him? Or wait until it goes away? They say that if you have a crush for over four months, then you’re in love. Crushes aren’t always gonna turn into full-fledged I’m-in-love-with-you.”

“Yeah, but I’m infatuated and you know that never ends well!” 

“You have a point,” Gabriel shrugged, pulling Stef back out of the ruined pile of stuffed animals; Stef pulled his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap. “But, hey, maybe this time’ll be different? He might like you!”

“I sleep in the same bed as him! This isn’t going to end well…” He really was lathering on this whole complaining about having a crush thing. Maybe he should knock it off a little. But he had a right to complain, having a crush on the guy you lived with was frustrating!

It was like he was the living version of ‘oh my god, there was only one bed’ except it wasn’t mutual pining and all it did was make him, one, have even more of an existential crisis, and two, admit he was a little spoon and also a cuddler.

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic shoulder rub. “Y’wanna play some Mario Kart to stop thinking so much? You’re so overthinking this, dude. Let it run its course. It’ll be fine.”

So, Stef got his ass kicked at Mario Kart.

_

Dante, meanwhile, was trying to maneuver his way out of an awkward conversation and was failing miserably. 

Stef was hanging out with Gabriel, who was apparently the kid whose parents had banned him from seeing Stef because of Stef’s ‘homosexual energy’ - there was a lot there to unpack that Dante wasn’t going to touch with a ten foot pole -, but both of Dante’s moms were off work and they roped him into a conversation he had never thought he would have, ever. 

And did not want to have with his two mothers. Mothers being the key word there!

“So, we, uh, we’ve noticed Stef’s been staying over more often...” Dante’s mama started off. For all intents and purposes, their names were Raven, his mama, and Crow, his mom.

Yes, they were weird names, but this was obviously not a conventional family. They were all eating lunch at the kitchen table: Cup Noodles, the traditional Saturday lunch. Dante was sitting on the side of the table closest to the corner, Raven across from him and Crow next to them both. The perfect place to corner your teenage son.

“Yeah?” Dante asked, raising his eyes up to meet his mama’s, his heartbeat picking up as he frantically thought, what if they know? How did they know? “What about it?”

“Well...” Crow continued, awkwardly, her words tumbling over each other and she set her cup down to make hesitant gestures. She gestured to the two of them, her and Raven. “We, uh, we clearly don’t really know how it works, but...Uh, we want to make sure you’re being safe -”

“Wait, what?” Dante interrupted, his eyes widening as he realized what talk he was having. He, for some inexplicable reason, was having _The Talk_ with his lesbian mothers in the kitchen at two p.m., and...why? Just why? Why was Dante’s life like this?

“We don’t really know how male sex works,” Raven nodded, mostly to herself, looking as awkward as they all must’ve felt.

Wait, did they think he and Stef…?

“Oh God no!” Dante nearly shouted, making dramatic gagging motions, because definitely not, nope, never gonna happen, not a thing, why did they think, there was no reason, he was NOT having this conversation with his mothers and he might actually choke on Cup Noodles if he tried to eat any right now. “No, we’re not - we’ve never - we’re never -”

Crow gave a shrug. The tension in the room was palpable. “We, uh, well, just, be safe, okay? Your mama bought you -”

“La la la la la!” Dante shouted, covering his ears. Nope, nope, not having this conversation. The one time he had kissed Stef was three weeks ago when he moved in, and that had been Stef pecking him on the lips before going out to meet his moms and somehow manage to become his mom’s favorite. He continued shouting, awkwardly trying to pick up his half-empty cup of noodles with his elbows as he continued to cover his ears, to fumble around as he walked back to his room.

It only set in after he had finished his Cup Noodles on his bed. His moms really thought…?

Hesitantly, he walked over to his dresser, where his current basket of laundry-that-wasn’t-put-away-yet was, where his mom had put it this morning. Sure enough - box of condoms. 

No one was with Dante, but his face went bright red, as red as Stef’s hair. Stef was so not going to let him live this down. He hastily crammed the box into his top dresser drawer, just to be out of sight. Speaking of, he needed to separate his and Stef’s laundry.

One of the downsides of having someone living with you, when no one else knows they live with you, is that his mom threw all their combined clothes into one laundry basket, assuming they were either just Dante’s or they were a few of Stef’s clothes from nights he’s slept over. 

Stef said he’d be back sometime around four-ish, but knowing Stef, Dante would see him at dinner. 

That kinda gave him the perfect opportunity for something, Dante realized, trying to shoo all the embarrassment out of his face and his brain. He had a Skype call to make - just to confirm his suspicions, because now that he had a bit of an idea of what was going on made a lot of his texts make way more sense. 

He opened up his laptop after sitting on his bed, wondered how exactly he was going to phrase this major accusation, opened up Skype, realized being blunt was probably in his best interest, waited for his friend to answer, regretted his decision of calling - 

And then Dylan - or Mr. Sandman, as their inside jokes would prompt - answered, smiling at him, in his pajamas with sleep-mused hair and, as always, a messy bedroom as his backdrop. “‘Sup, Ghoulie?”

“So,” Dante started, bluntly, “You never told me you took someone with you when you left for Chicago.”

Dante saw as Dylan froze, eyes widening, staring at Dante - and then flickering over to something to his side, off screen. Yeah, Dante was right, then. “What do you - what do you mean?”

Dylan’s nervous laugh made Dante even more sure he was right. He had known this stupid, dumb, bad-decision-making black-haired nerd since kindergarten, he knew when he was lying. 

“I mean, you never told me you took someone with you when you moved away. You never told me that the kid you took with you was Stef Way’s brother. And you definitely didn’t tell me you’re with him.”

Dylan was silent for a few moments, checked his phone, noticed he had a message, smiled to whatever - whoever - was off screen, and looked back to Dante, speaking slowly, concisely, choosing his words wisely. This had been a secret for three years, after all. “You never told me you knew Stef Way. But...no, um, I didn’t tell you. Marco’s been living with me, yeah. My aunt doesn’t really like ‘im, but she loves me, so. He had a really bad home life, okay? Please don’t make me explain why I did it!”

Dante shook his head. “Already know why. You could’a also slipped in that you’re, I don’t know, with him? Like, with-with? Relationship? And, for the record, I kinda have to know Stef, I live with him.”

“You what?”

“I live with him. Apparently, you get one brother, I get the other. Guess we both kept things from each other, huh?”

“So you’re...not mad at me?”

“Oh,” Dante snickered, “I’m gonna mutilate you for keeping this from me for so long, but we’re looking at the bright side. The bright side is that you know where Marco is, and I know where Stef is, and I know that Stef is dying to know what happened to his baby brother.”

Dylan opened his mouth to answer, then glanced off screen again and covered his mouth, hiding a smile - 

“I’m not a baby anymore, that’s for sure.” Whoever was off screen was now on screen now, and...Okay, Marco did not look like Stef. He had sharper cheekbones, a thinner face, and was also outfitted with one of those edgy undercuts except his fringe was blond, and he was also too tall and had to lean over Dylan’s desk. 

The only resemblance Dante could make out was the eyes; he had a crappy laptop and that was a bit grainy, but he could make out hazel, almost like Stef’s but different at the same time. 

“You are not,” Dante agreed. “But, hey, you wanna tell that to him? He’d love to talk to you, y’know.”

Marco sighed, a dramatic heaving of his chest. Of course dramatics ran in the family. He was hesitant, stuttering a bit over his words. “I...um, are you sure? He must be mad at me for running away. And never giving him a call. And never seeking him out. And - a lot of things.”

“I’m positive he would love to talk to you. I live with him, I know he would. Things have, uh, things have really changed over here,” Dante explained, now the awkward one. Even thinking the word awkward brought him back to his talk with his moms in the kitchen and he gave his mind a straight shot to anything that was not That. 

“What’s changed?” Marco asked curiously. 

Dante shrugged. He didn’t quite know the details of what things were like before Marco ran away, but he knew what Stef had told him the night Stef moved in. “Your, uh, your dad got kicked out. Mom is...uhm, abusing the Jack Daniels, and Stef lives with me, now. Obviously. But no, yeah, uh. He’d love to talk to you.”

Marco smiled, one that reached his eyes. Dylan was in the background watching him with adoration in his eyes. Irony at its best, right? “Yeah...yeah, sometime. I wanna get some things together first, but...yeah, some time. I would love to.”

Dante was in the middle of a sentence about how Marco would definitely have a lot of explaining to do when he heard the front door open - he paid attention to those things, he was a teenager after all -, and then Stef’s boisterous laugh echoing through the house.

“Oh, shit, shit,” Dante hissed, “I’m gonna have to let you go, oh, shit -”

Dante’s laptop had just been slammed shut when his door slammed open, Stef of course, having little regard for things like drywall and whatever Dante was doing. “Hey! I’m back!”

“I can see that,” Dante tried to return Stef’s smile with a crooked one of his own, his heart beating erratically. He was going to text Dylan later, but he was sure it wasn’t his place and that Marco was going to want Stef to find out privately, somehow. “You’re back early, you good?”

Stef shrugged, dramatically flopping on the bed, coincidentally right onto Dante’s lap and would’ve landed on Dante’s laptop if he hadn’t somehow managed to throw it to the other side of the bed before Stef landed. “Got tired of getting my ass handed to me at Mario Kart. And also his parents came back home early. May have started an argument.”

“How’d you manage to get out of that disaster?” Dante snorted. Gabriel’s parents would really hate him, he thought. Dante wasn’t straight, yeah, but they’d hate Dante solely because of his moms before that. Sometimes he lived in a world so great that homophobia wasn’t a thing.

Stef blew air out of his mouth and vaguely gestured around the room, which Dante interpreted as ‘your guess is as good as mine’.

“At least you managed to survive?” Dante suggested, as a bit of a pick-me-up. He didn’t know if Stef felt guilty about causing trouble with Gabriel and his parents or not. 

Stef did his weird hand gestures again. “Yeah, I guess. But Gabriel got me thinkin’ and thinking is not a good look on me.”

Well, most things looked good on Stef, so - 

Wait. Wait, did Dante actually just think that? Dante shook his head to get that out of his mind (it was true, though, he had to admit). Maybe that awkward conversation with his moms got him thinking too. He didn’t like that. 

“Thinking is a good thing for most people, I think, but a coupl’a dumbasses like us aren’t supposed to know how that works.” Dante nodded along as he spoke, like he was saying gospel, and to him, it was. Almost subconsciously, he started to card his fingers through Stef’s red hair. Maybe he could help Stef redye it sometime. 

Stef didn’t seem to notice, and if he did - he neglected to say anything. “Yeah, we really aren’t. Gets everythin’ mixed up. Fuck, it’s, it’s fuckin’ dumb.”

“Story of my life.”

“You’re really pretty, did ya know?” Stef blurted, looking up at Dante. Stef was pretty and dumb and blurted too many things to be healthy. 

Dante didn’t blushl; he only blushed when his moms made rash decisions at lunch. He laughed, though, self-conscious now, sloppily braiding when he got bored of running into knots in Stef’s hair. “Bit too greasy ‘n stuff for that, but… Thanks. You’re pretty too.”

“I know,” said Stef, a lazy smug grin on his face. Dante saw the red in the face, though. “You make me wanna do stupid things, y’know.”

“If those stupid things are sneaking out, then you’ve already done that. What stupid things you thinking?” Dante asked, tilting Stef’s head slightly. It was hard to braid when Stef moved around so much. And when his hair was so uneven that half of it went to his chin and some barely made it to his ears. 

His moms were wrong. This was Stef, nothing like that was ever going to happen.

Stef’s silence brought Dante back to earth, where he was talking about stupid things they should do. They were teenagers; stupid things were secondnature and first impulse. Stef hummed, reaching up to brush his finger along Dante’s cheek. “Those stupid things would change everythin’. So… I don’t wanna act on ‘em. But, God, do you make it tempting, Detonator.”

“Aw, c’mon!” huffs Dante dramatically, throwing his arms up and discarding all his hardwork braiding Stef’s hair. He didn’t like prying, but messing with Stef was fun when he got lost in that universe in his head again, the one that Dante couldn’t see but knew he was apart of. “Now you gotta tell me!”

“No I don’t!” Stef giggled - giggled! It was nice to see him giggle. Watching the way he deflated, sighing, but relaxing in Dante’s laugh was odd, even for him, though. “I… might. I’m jus’ debatin’ on everything that could go wrong. Don’ wanna fuck things up with you.”

“Stef ‘Cherry Bomb’ whatever-your-last-name-is, how could you possibly fuck things up?”

Looking up at him, Stef blew his hair out of his face, twirling his finger through the air and booping Dante’s nose with a smile, lost in thought.

Then Stef said, “Oh, I’m fucked anyway,” and suddenly Stef was propping himself up on his elbows - 

The startling part of that for Dante was the Stef-was-kissing-him part. The Stef-was-actually-kissing-him-and-it’s-real part. You know. That part?

It was not a peck on the lips, either, and Dante was confused for all of five seconds before he got the hint; Stef was kissing him, and kissing him was the stupid thing that Stef wanted to do, and, and, and...

Too many ands. Too much thinking. Dante was just going to focus on the fact that Stef was kissing him and that his brain was short-circuiting and couldn’t compute and dear Lord this was not how Dante was expecting his night to go and he wasn’t complaining, he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Dante had to force himself to remember, oh, right, Stef was sitting in the most awkward angle possible, wasn’t he? Stef adjusted himself so he was sitting up properly, cross-legged, and Dante was melting into his kiss, because of course Stef would be a good kisser. It wasn't far, either Stef was a really good kisser or Dante didn’t get around too often and it was probably both. 

And then Stef wasn’t kissing him, he was leaving kisses down Dante’s jaw and neck and collarbone and Dante was so on cloud nine that he wasn’t really processing anything other than Stef and also nearly falling backwards because his arms were pretty much jelly, and - 

“You owe me twenty bucks!”

Dante threw himself backwards, away from Stef, eyes darting around wildly, when had his door opened? Why was his door open? Wait - 

There was his Mama and Mom. Oh no…

Oh no. Oh, oh, this was bad, oh, oh, shit, shit, shit - “Mom? Mama?” Dante squeaked, just as guilty and surprised as a deer caught in headlights.

“Well,” his mom started, shaking her head with a laugh that was so at Dante’s expense, “We were plannin’ on tellin’ you it was time for dinner, we made a plate for Stef too...but I see we’re interesting something important.”

“It’s fine!” Dante nearly shouted, jumping onto his feet and tripping on his comforter because of course his foot got caught in it, suddenly starkly aware of the redness painting his face. And his collarbone. Oh - oh shit! Did he have any marks…? They hadn’t been kissing - making out - long enough for that, right? Shit, that wasn’t good. “It’s, uh, I’m glad dinner is ready!”

Stupid things indeed. Whatever, he liked the stupid thing.

“Did you make any biscuits?” Stef asked from behind Dante. Stef had somehow gone from sitting cross-legged and making-out with Dante to lounging leisurely on his back (and on half of Dante’s stuffed animals. Ridiculous.) without a care in the world and it was vaguely infuriating, if Dante wasn’t too busy being embarrassed.

His Mama rolled her eyes. “‘Course we made biscuits. You’re here.”

Dante would comment on how he was pretty sure his Mama liked Stef better than she liked him if he wasn’t having a minor crisis because - his brain was still processing Stef kissing him, let alone his moms catching them making-out. “Let’s go then!”

“We’ll give you two a minute…” his Mom rolled her eyes, but nevertheless turned on her heel and gestured for his Mama to do the same. Dante waited until they were out of sight to close his door and stare at Stef.

“So.” Dante didn’t know what else to add. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t like the atmosphere he was quickly creating by his awkwardness, so he wandered over to the small mirror above his desk. 

There were… marks on his collarbone. And neck. He was right. Why did Stef have to be so Stef? Dante didn’t think he had a jacket with a collar high enough to hide them… He still wasn’t fully processing them in general. He didn’t think his moms would say anything, but it certainly would help his case if he was trying to make them forget they ever saw anything. 

Making out. Him. Stef. Stef. Him. What?

“So?” Stef repeated, drawing out the syllable, leaving it as a question and watching Dante with a raised brow.

“So. You’re a really good kisser.” If Dante wasn’t already red in the face, which he was, he was now because that was such a stupid...stupid thing to say. Stef already knew that! Clearly! “And - and you...kissed me?”

Stef cringed. “Should I not have?” 

“No! No, no,” Dante shook his head. Wow - his hair was nearly as greasy as Stef’s. Time for a wash. Maybe a shower after dinner. “I, I just. We, uh, we just made out ‘n -”

“‘N your moms came in and now you’re awkward and don’t know how to handle the situation?”

“I wouldn’t have known how to handle the situation if they hadn’t walked in. But same difference,” Dante said, a decisive nod to follow his statement, turning away from his desk to go rummage through his closet for one of his jackets with a collar that could hide some of his hickies.

Holy shit. Hickies. Nothing Dante had ever had to worry about before. And, yeah, sure, there was definitely no way that his parents hadn’t seen them already, having walked in and everything, but he still had to sit through dinner and didn’t want them brought up. Or the entire encounter in general, thank you very much.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dante saw Stef sit up, stretching his arms out and yawning. “...I told you, you make me want to do stupid things.”

“We can, um, talk about it later. Dinner,” Dante muttered, his face still flaming red. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it, or how to process anything, but he did have dinner to go eat and questions to avoid. 

Normally, eating dinner with a friend over wouldn’t be too different from usual, if a little louder than normal. When that friend was the guy you were just caught making out with, it was...different. 

Well, it was different for Dante, but it didn’t seem different for anyone else. They were all acting normal! Which was weird, because if you recall, Dante was sort-of in the doghouse.

At least… he thought he was? He was caught kissing his best friend-who-definitely-lived-with-him, shouldn’t there at least be a talk about this?

Oh wait. 

“Stef, can you pass the mashed potatoes?” Crow, his mama, asked, humming, to which Stef smiled and nodded and did just that. 

It was so utterly normal. What? Dante didn’t get it, still. 

And maybe the only reason he didn’t notice the looks his mothers were giving him was because he was picking at his food, neglecting to eat it in lieu of trying to comprehend what was going on without actually combusting.

At some point, Raven - his mom - just sighed, rolled her eyes, and dropped her fork onto her plate with an audible clack. “So. Dante, I think - okay, d’ya think it’s time, honey, Stef?”

Stef nodded mutely for the second time this dinner.

Crow shared the same resigned look as her wife. Still, she nodded as well, taking over for Raven. “We, um, well… Shit, I don’t know how to talk to teenagers. Lunch was already a disaster?”

“You’re not supposed to tell him that!”

“Tell me what - “

“What your mother is trying to say,” Raven cut him off, though not rudely. She was rarely rude; it just wasn’t in her nature. “Is that we know Stef’s been staying with us, is all. And that he’s free to stay as long as he wants.”

Dante blinked. And blinked again. Slowly, he said, “...What? Wait, what, Stef - did - wait, did you know?”

With a sheepish shrug and his best puppy dog eyes, that nearly swayed Dante out of his confusion, Stef spun the tail. His hand gestures made it seem like a fairy tale he used to be told at bedtime. “You see - you don’t do your own laundry, so they kinda caught on rather quickly. And I got up at like four in the morning to eat some cookies and Mrs. Crow was getting water. And she makes really good bicuits and offered me some while you were gone a while ago.”

“So… it really hasn’t been a secret at all?” Dante asked, still dumbfounded. Screw trying to eat anything that wasn’t pure confusion, because it wasn’t working, and that was a tragedy! It was potatoes!

“Yeah, that’s about it,” Crow laughed, poking at his face and only laughing more when Dante swatted her hand away. 

“Andaboutthewholekissingthing?” If Dante said it fast enough, maybe no one would understand it. 

The problem was, he was genuinely curious. 

To that, Crow and Raven laughed together. Also stupid. His moms were moms they should not be giggling about stupid inside jokes. It was Raven, who hadn’t previously been laughing at the weird faces Dante makes when he’s doing something, who spoke up. “Okay - okay that we bet on. I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you that. Anyway, I won, your mom owes me a night of Netflix, and yeah, we expected that.”

“And they still let me stay!” Stef grinned, all stupid and cute at Dante. Dante had a weakness, and it had to be that smile, goddammit.

“...You’re not gonna make him stay in the guest room, right?” Was Dante asking too many questions? He was probably asking too many questions. But what could he say except ask more questions? This was all confusing to him!

It was Stef who shook his head, gently bumping shoulders with Dante. How reassuring (and yes, that was sarcasm.) “‘Course not, m’room’s with you.”

“I gave you the -”

“I think that’s enough for now mama!” Dante squeaked. Sometimes it was both a blessing and a curse to know what that knowing gleam in his mama’s eye meant. She was talking about the talk earlier.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, don’t keep torturin’ the poor kids, dear,” his mama said, a snicker as she batted at his mom’s arm, grinning all the while because they were solely there to make Dante’s life as embarrassing as it could be, weren’t they?

_

Stef giggled and collapsed on their bed the moment the door was shut. 

Dante flipped him off and laid next to him, instinctively curling into Stef’s side, because Stef was also a cuddler and had been transferring the habit onto him. “Tha’ was fuckin’ stupid…”

“Me being allowed to stay with you is stupid?” Stef asked, trying to sound serious but it backfired and he just laughed again - one of those full body laughs despite the fact that he was laying down, tilting his head back and Dante had to take a moment to think, wow, he’s really fucking beautiful. 

“N - no, that’s not what I meant, jackass!” Dante huffed, getting his brain working again, flicking Stef on the nose. “‘M glad I don’ have to hide you anymore, that was stressful.”

“You haven’t even been doing a good job of it!”

“Well - that’s - beside the point, whatever!”

“You know you love me!” Stef sat up, shoving Dante off of him, the bastard, solely to make kissy faces and laugh all the while, his nose scrunching up. 

With a roll of his eyes Dante neither confirmed nor denied that statement, laying back down on his pile of stuffed animals. They seemed to spend a lot of their time here, and Dante couldn’t say it made him upset.

Sure, it was weird for him not to be playing Mortal Kombat every waking second of his teenage life, but it was nice. Stef said the most interesting things at two a.m., when they were both sleep-drunk and loose-lipped. 

Stef was just fifteen different shades of amazing - and that was only on the eye level. 

So they laid there, in silence. Dante was contemplating about the guy laying next to him who kissed him and then had dinner with his parents, and Stef, well, Stef was wondering if this was all going to crash and burn, that it was just another fever dream. 

It didn’t. And it wasn’t going to, as Dante liked to reassure him on the nights he couldn’t sleep, but Stef had struggled for the last month to call Dante’s house anything more than, well, Dante’s house.

The minute those biscuits were offered to him, through it’s haze of tears and sniffling, he knew it was home.

By Dante’s side was home, too, but it wasn’t just a feeling of protection, it wasn’t just feeling like he belonged. 

It was - well it was that same feeling that came along with his impulse to do stupid things. He didn’t quite know what it was, because crush didn’t sound like the right word for it.

It wasn’t a crush, but he wasn’t in love, not yet, but he was at home and it was… it was special. Dante felt special. And they didn’t talk about their little make-out session earlier, or about what Dante’s moms had assumed, or about anything, really. 

Stef just wanted to hold Dante close, and Dante, the treacherous little gremlin, of course wanted to be big spoon. He always wanted to be big spoon, which made no sense because he was shorter than Stef and it wasn’t fair! (Even if Stef did, in fact, love being little spoon. No one needed to know.)

Home. This was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this would be the (not really) long anticipated part 2 of city lights! I actually opened and finished this last night and it may not be as "quality" as part one but it was nice to get into a familiar project that was already half done! Either way, it would be nice to hear what you all think! (And my tumblr is @ruination-formation if you want to talk me there and you don't know already!)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Stef now solely because I got this idea while sitting on a swingset in the rain in the middle of the night in a unicorn onesie. No The Pretty Reckless though, but ideas for later, right?
> 
> Anyway - tell me what you think! I'm thinking of writing a sequel with more of what this was supposed to be, but I couldn't resist and it was getting a bit long.


End file.
